The Crime Busters, a surprisingly bright and colorful name, which matches the primary colors of their members, appear disgruntled, to say the least. The man who appears to be their leader, a tall man with golden hair and a tiara somehow looks the sternest. He’s seems motionless at first, but it’s obvious that he’s taking in the peculiarity of three people in matching blue longjohns. The seem to have brought a monster with them as well. It’s apparent by the “4” emboldened on the human’s chest and the monster’s hip that he (she? It? they?) is a member of team as well. The “4” also gives a fair assumption that the robot is more of a tool than a member. Perhaps the source of the human one’s powers? A fair assessment. He turns to his fellow vigilantes, a little bit surprised that the situation has caused them to stop fighting one another. “The robot first, then the monster, then the rest.”

“Sure, why not?” The comedian reaches over his shoulder, pulls out a shotgun and shoots the robot.

“Oh my! It appears we’re under attack!” H.E.R.B.I.E. alerts his team.

“It appears the robot is bulletproof.” The Comedian gumbles and laughs as he charges towards the costumed adventures across from him, “Guess we’ll have to see if he’s grenade proof too! Hahahah!” Grabbing a grenade off of his belt, he pulls the pin and chucks it towards his enemies.

All of the crimebusters are startled as the grenade stops, mid-air. Even the Comedian slows to a halt mid charge. “3… 4…5…”

BOOM! The grenade explodes, still suspended. The blast goes out about 6 inches in each direction and then dissipates

“What… the… FU…”

“NEVER YOU MIND IT!” Nite Owl bellows out, cutting his friend the Comedian short. We don’t know what’s going on here, and we need to end this quick!” He pulls out his moon shaped throwing knives and launches them across the battlefield.

The Human Torch rises to the occasion, “FLAME ON!” dropping the daggers to molten slag with bust of flame and zipping towards the three still grouped together. He encircles the trio in a wall of fire.

The Silk Spectre, unafraid of the fire, covers her face and burst through the flames. “I’ll take the girl!” tumbling up to the Invisible Woman, she bursts into a sprint and about 3 feet away from her target comes to an abrupt stop. The Invisible Woman smiles, as her would be assailant scrunches and contorts as though hitting a brick wall. Silk Spectre collapses.

Perhaps worried about the fire, but just not caring about the worry, Rorschach strolls through the inferno as it begins to die down, the bottom of his short trench coat, singed. His purposeful gait and nonsensical muttering do little good as he bumps chest up to the everlovin’ blue-eyed Thing.

“Today just ain’t your day pal.” Ben Grimm daintifully places two large orange fingers, one on either of Rorschach’s head, and effortlessly lifts him off of the ground.”

“You unhand me fiend! I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE! YOU’LL NEVER STOP ME!” Rorschach begins to shout, kicking and punching with no luck as he’s flung clear across the stadium.

“KaPOW!” The shotgun fires out again, a puff of smoke vanishing off of the Things rocky hide showing no damage.

“Aw for the love a…:” Once again the Comedian is cut short, though this time, not by his friend, and the Thing stomps down, sending a titanic shock through the Earth and upending the grumpy man in a domino mask.

Night Owl begins frantically searching through his various gadgetry searching for something very specific. He finds a small canister and launches at the Torch zipping around ahead. Laughing at something else being thrown his way, the Johnny Storm doesn’t think to worry as it deploys a powerful flame retardant that travels up and around the flame, turning them to a soft white foam, and bringing his foe to the ground. “Thanks for the assist on that one, it works astonishingly well!” Night Owl calls back to Ozymandias. “Given the intensity of this man’s powers, I’m confident that one or two canisters could put a whole building out!”

“Well ain’t that good for you Mr. Egghead.” The booming voice of the Thing, who has walked up while Night Owl was focused on the Human Torch. “Too bad that buddy boy there is my pal, and I’m the only who get to pick on the matchstick.” He reaches out with coarse mitts and grabs Night Owl, the Things hands so large that his hands basically cover Night Owls entire chest. “Ta quote one a my poker buddies, fastball special!” The things winds up like a pitcher, and launches Night Owl towards his sole opposition.

Ozymandias sees the incoming projectile, and leaps, high into the air, over his oncoming ally, over the wall of fire, and on top of the man mountain’s head. The Thing swats at him, but Ozymandias is too quick. He lightly springs off of the head and tucks into a somersault, releasing in a flying kick directly into Mister Fantastic’s face. Without assessing the full effect he rolls off his gambit, low, and side sweeps the Invisible Woman’s legs out from under her. He continues with his flawless movement to grab the off leg of the robot and hurls it towards the rock man charging towards him. The two collide with little effect. As Thing get just close enough, Ozymandias slides through his legs punches up with a low blow, and rolls past. An honorable move to be sure, and unfortunately as ineffective as he’d feared. He sees the fallen body of Night and hopes there’s some device that he can amplify or use to damage the brute. Luckily the brute is slow, and he is fast, and the team’s flyer/ ranged combatants are out. He takes off running.

It is too bad that the remainder of the Crimebuster squad had been so ineffective. Perhaps if they hadn’t all fallen so soon, Ozymandias could have seen the what powers the woman held, (hopefully she’s still down?) Or perhaps he would have thought to be more cognizant of his surroundings, as he dismisses the thought or an excessively long blue arm stretching past him as too fantastic. The arm wraps itself around him, stopping him, just a few feet away from his hopes of victory. Ozymandias can escape any knot, any binding, but this constrictor seems to move with his every effort. With no way out and nowhere to go, the arm pulls in front of the behemoth he’d been worried about finding a way to damage.

The arm’s owner calls from a few feet away as he uses his other to help his wife dust herself off, “Can you handle it from here Ben?”

“Oh yeah, it’s clobberin’ time.” The Thing cracks his knuckles, makes a fist, and the battle is won.